The Wrath of Hellscream
by Atoxkal
Summary: Grommash Hellscream, son of the legendary 'Giantkiller', is forced to watch as his homeworld of Draenor falls to forces unknown and his people are enslaved. With the goal of freeing his people, he sets off to find a way to combat the slavers and liberate what remains of his home. Partially AU. Usually don't do them, but differences will be stated via A/N pre-prologue. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**A/N-**

 **Typically I don't write author's notes or anything of the sort, but there was one thing I wanted to state here, and since the description has a character limit… Well, only thing I could think of. Long story short, there will be a few differences between WoD and this story in not just the present. For one thing, I'm not going to have Golmash Hellscream being killed off by the gronn before the story begins. He will have killed the gronn to get the same title of Giantkiller, and will have escaped injured but still alive. The reason will be explained in the story.**

 **Apart from this, magic will be explained as an extension of the Force in a similar way to how the Nightsisters of Dathomir can use 'magic' of their own. There won't be any elementals or the like just wandering around – they'll just be in the ancient legends and the like. Same for the Magnaron and Ogre-lords. Too elemental-like. The Ogre evolutionary chain will mainly be gronn, gronnlings, ogron, and ogres. All other species on Draenor will remain, however – the only other difference is that the Draenei will be native to Draenor as well, but will have been mostly wiped out due to events explained in later chapters. There might still be a few pockets of survivors, however.**

 **Anyway, sorry for the long A/N, but just wanted to explain those few things before starting.**

Shadow had fallen over the plateau as the cloud coverage started to form in the sky above the lone Mandalorian surveying the land. A few black drops of now polluted rain started to fall, quickly being absorbed by the thirsty land – poisoning it even further. The Mandalorian could only sigh quietly as he gripped his vibro-axe.

The land had changed so much over the years. In some ways, he remembered it perfectly. But in other ways? He could only shake his head ever so slowly. No, this was not the land he remembered. Every moment he saw the ravaged remains of the Oshu'gun, the moment he saw what was left of the now polluted landscape… The Mandalorian growled quietly. The moment he saw the corpses or slaves of his people… These were the moments that drove him to remember. This was not his land, but it would become his land again. Of that, he was sure.

Glancing up again to the ruined remains of the stone circle on the plateau, the Mandalorian growled. He would drive the cowards off the face of the world if he had to. He would make sure they paid dearly for the pain they brought to this world, to his people. Putting a hand to his helmet, the Mandalorian slowly removed it. He knew he had to see the shape of the world now – with his own eyes, not from behind the view of his helmet.

After setting his helmet gently on the ground, the Mandalorian stood. Golden eyes scanned the horizon as he turned to face the east. Before he could make the cowardly 'Hutt Cartel' pay, he knew full well what he had to do. The Mandalorian knew he would have to free his people, to give them a proper banner to rally under. But first? First he would need to grant his people a symbol to inspire them, to give them the will to fight back. And he knew exactly what symbol he would bring to them. He heard tales of how the slavers had murdered his father and took his axe as a trophy, hanging it on the wall of their compound as a simple decoration.

Grommash Hellscream shook his head slowly. The axe would be a trophy no longer. It would become the very banner his people needed to rally under. And he knew if the axe could think, that it too would hunger for battle. For the war that would decide the fate of Draenor. But first, to retrieve it from the wretched compound built over the ruins of Hallvalor. To retrieve the symbol of his retribution, and the instrument that would bring his people closer to freedom.

" _Gorehowl._ "

 **Ten Years Earlier**

Grommash stood at the river's edge, staring out into the dark jungle surrounding Oshu'gun as he waited for the remainder of the Clans to arrive. This would be his first gathering, now that he was deemed old enough to come, at the age of twelve. He was anxious for the events to begin.

Grommash whipped around as he heard a crunching sound behind him. Calming slightly as he recognised the all too familiar laugh, he bowed his head in greetings to the newcomer. "Father."

Golmash Hellscream slowly approached his son, still chuckling quietly. His legendary axe still strapped to his back as he moved to place a hand on Grommash's shoulder. "I hope I didn't scare you, Grom."

Grommash frowned. ' _Grom_ '. Only a few people used that with him. Although he didn't mind his father using it, he still couldn't help but frown. It made him seem like half of who he was. "No. I was just… thinking. Do we know how many clans we're waiting for now?"

The elder Hellscream nodded slightly. "Yes. We're just waiting for the Thunderlords. The Frostwolves arrived about ten minutes ago."

"Are you sure they're going to come? Durgas was talking about the hostility between the-" Grommash was cut off slightly by the sound of a horn. In the distance, a small patrol of orcs in armour made of bone and metal were walking in, riding two white-furred clefthooves.

Golmash chuckled quietly. "It would seem we will be starting soon." Pushing slightly on his son's shoulder, the elder Hellscream nodded slightly. "Let's join the others."

Grommash nodded slowly, not actually responding. He was anxious to see how this would go, but something in him wanted to turn around and leave. Shaking it off as only nerves, the young Hellscream slowly moved to follow his father. A few yards in the distance, from the cover a large tent, he heard the chieftain of the Blackrock clan call out to the gathered orcs. "Gather! We begin the Kosh'harg now!"


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter I_

Grommash slowly wandered into the tent, following his father. Golden eyes wandering from figure to figure, he spotted some he thought to be Frostwolves sitting on a log next to the fire, talking with a few from the Blackrock. The Thunderlords were keeping their distances, though they seemed intent on one of the younger Frostwolves.

The young Hellscream simply frowned to that. Turning his attention away from them, he noticed his father walking towards one of the logs set across the fire from the Frostwolf the Thunderlords were intent on. Although he was slow to do so, Grommash move to follow his father over to the makeshift bench.

Once the members of the various clans had finished gathering, a young-looking Blackrock orc stepped forward. He looked to be no older than eighteen, but the way he held himself told he had seen many a battle. "I am Dravok, chieftain of the Blackrock clan. Our former chieftain was killed by the G-"

Dravok was cut off by a growl from the group of gathered orcs. A Burning Blade orc stepped forward. "You? You're no older than a whelp. Is your clan really so desperate as to grant an inexperienced whelp the 'honour' of being called 'chieftain'?"

A few grumbles of agreement sounded amongst a handful of those gathered, but the majority kept quiet. As the Burning Blade started to speak again, Dravok stepped forward, throwing a punch with enough strength that the other orc fell back and to the ground due to a mix of the force and surprise. Kneeling down beside the Burning Blade, Dravok swiftly moved to pin him down by the throat. Leaning closer, Dravok quietly growled his response to the other's ourburst. "You speak of honour? I fought and bled my way to where I am now. Through the smoke of the burning forges and through the heat of battle. I am Dravok. I am the chieftain of the Blackrock clan. Our will is unbreaking, and should you want to test this – know that you will fall. This isn't a question – it's a fact."

Another, more elderly, Burning Blade stepped forward, knocking the hilt of his longsword against the rocky outcropping of the firepit to gather their attention. "Enough!" Turning to glance down to the pinned orc, he growled a quiet response of his own. "Get up. You do little more than spit at the name of honour with comments like those. Should a warrior prove their strength and their honour – that is all they need. Without these two things, what truly is there? You dishonour us all. And you can expect a punishment when we return to Hallvalor. Do you understand this, fool?"

As the pinned orc mutely noded, Dravok pushed forward on him, throwing him to the ground with a thud. The elderly Burning Blade turned to face him one the Blackrock was fully standing. "I, Dharl of the Thrice-Bloodied Blade, greet you as a fellow chieftain, Dravok. And I hope you will accept my apology in spirt of the festival for that fool's outburst."

Dravok grunted slowly in response, dipping his head in greetings. "Dharl. I've heard of you… They say your blade took the blood of the ogre warlord that enslaved your clan and both of his lieutenants…" Dravok bowed his head again before nodding. "It is an honour to greet you as chieftain. I accept your apology."

The elderly orc grinned slightly. "Good!" Clapping Dravok's shoulder, Dharl turned to walk back to his seat amongst the orcs.

The youth glanced around slightly to see if any of the others planned to speak up against him. When no-one did, Dravok nodded slowly before walking back to finish what he was saying. "Our former chieftain was killed by the Gronn calling itself 'Gruul'. Its ogre servants stormed the Forge, slaughtering whatever they could. But while our chieftain fell in battle, we were the victors in the end. We, the Blackrock, crushed the ogre servants and imprisoned the Gronn deep within the Forge's mines. The beast will never escape."

A mix of cheers, grunts of approval, and laughs sounded throughout the tent as the youth finished. One among the crowd, a Thunderlord, nodded in approval. "Well killed, Chieftain Dravok. I've heard tales of this Gronn. He's a nasty one, that."

The Blackrock Chieftain simply nodded slowly. "Yes. It was. But the beast is no longer. It will be broken. This, I'll see to personally. Once-" Dravok broke off as a loud 'crash' sounded from somewhere nearby, followed by three more if quick succession. "Blackrocks! To arms!"

Chaos broke out throughout the once festive tent as orcs from each and every clan raced to grab their weapons , hurrying outside to find out the source of the noise. Grommash fell in line beside his father as the elder Hellscream quickly removed the leather binding strapping Gorehowl to his back. Rushing to join the others as the thrill of the hunt started to take over his senses; Golmash grumbled a quick order to his son. "If this is more than a small ogre party, take Claw and gather the Warsong."

With a quick nod, Golmash rushed out of the tent, glancing around. Smoke roses from multiple locations just beyond the tree line. Meteors started to fall from the sky as the crashing noises continued. Stars started to appear out of nowhere, dotting the sky and growing. From the elder Hellscream's right, a Shadowmoon orc quietly mumbled, "This isn't right… Not since the legends of the Dark Star has something like this happened… The spirits are trying to warn us…"

Grommash tensed as he looked around. Glancing to the sky, he noticed another dark meteor falling from the sky and unbelievably swift speeds. The meteor was falling closer. And within mere moments, it hit the ground – throwing two full grown warriors aside like they were little more than pieces of grass. Slowly, the meteor started to rise out of the ground.

Sickly, metallic tentacles slowly slid out of small holes on the 'meteor's' lower half – which Grommash now realised was segmented into two separate halves. On the top half of the 'meteor', two small plates separated, revealing a small round shape that looked reminiscent of a misshapen eye. On either side of the top half, two small, strange, box-like shapes extended out – with a smaller hole in the front of each 'box'. When the first blast of molten fire shot out from each box, laying deathly scorch marks on whichever warrior was hit by it, chaos erupted. All throughout the clearing a single phrase was easily heard. "Lok'tar ogar!"

As more of the strange meteors crashed into the soft ground of Oshu'gun, Grommash remembered his father's order. He ran as hard as he was able – searching for the deadly Garn, Claw, that his father had tamed so long ago. This was no ogre attack, and the Mok'gol outpost had to be warned. They could send out more outriders to warn the other outposts and clans afterwards.

Despite half no crafted weapons of his own, Grommash saw that Claw was already having his fill of battle. Ripping and tearing at one of the 'meteors', the young Hellscream saw that it was actually made of metal. There were dozens of now sparking tendrils inside of the metal – the sparking increasing as Claw tore through them.

As Grommash approached, he called out to the wolf a simple command in orcish. "Claw! Here!" The Garn dipped his head in submission before rushing to the young Hellscream's side. Quickly climbing up on the wolf's back, he made one last glance around the clearing. When he heard the infamous howl of Gorehowl cutting through the air and into its prey, Grommash turned his attention back towards the treeline, ushering Claw to hurry forward.

Minutes flew by as they ran uninterrupted, none of the metal meteors yet giving chase. Grommash risked a glance towards the sky, hoping to tell how much time he had left before night fell completely. The young Hellscream grimaced slightly as he noticed both that night was about to fall, and that the stars were growing greatly in side. Now they more resembled elongated boulders flying high in the sky. One of the smaller ones even looked as if it was going to soon touch the ground.

Grommash tried to usher Claw to hurry. These were definitely not tied in with the ogres, be them the servants of the Gronn or the 'empire' to the south-west. These were something entirely different. Possibly even more deadly, too. It only took a single, effortless shot of molten flame to kill a fully grown warrior.

As much as the young Hellscream hated to admit it, he figured they would need every orcish clan to fight these intruders, be them Warsong or Frostwolf; Blackrock, Bleeding Hollow, or Burning Blade; Thunderlord or Shadowmoon… As much as he hated the thought, he knew they may even be forced to request aid from the wild Laughing Skulls and the Draenei from Talador, Shadowmoon Valley, and Farahlon. This was not going to be a fight of pride. There would be a fight for survival. Showing weakness against these enemies would mean only one thing. Death.


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter II_

Golmash Hellscream, the dubbed Giantkiller, was no coward. Even against these unknown enemies, held nothing back, holding his own well while others fell. Gorehowl's song rippled through the war torn air as he cut deep into the 'meteor's' malformed eye. 'Meteor' after 'meteor' fell as the orcs of Draenor pushed them back, letting none survive. As the final 'meteor' fell, glee danced in the Giantkiller's eyes – the thrill of battle still fresh in his mind. "Lok'tar ogar! VICTORY!"

Almost as if to counter-act the cry of victory, a quiet whirring sound could easily be heard in the far off distance. The elder Hellscream glanced up to the sky before growling in rage. There were hundreds of unnatural stars in the sky, and they all were getting bigger. Dozens of them were already appearing the size of large boulders, but what enraged Golmash the most wasn't that they were there. It was that they were appearing everywhere that the sky could possibly reach. And they were not stopping.

One of the boulder-stars appeared to be flying directly for the Oshu'gun, while another appeared to be getting close to actually touching the ground just outside the tree-line. Within minutes, the first flying boulder-star was closing in quick on the Oshu'gun, while the second had completely touched the ground.

When the first was in range, a large chunk of metal fell off of the bottom of the boulder-star. Confusion rippled throughout the gathered crowd as the piece of metal fell to the ground. But as whirring started to come from the metal, Golmash started to clear the area. Most followed, but a few unfortunate warriors failed to do so in time. The moment the metal hit the ground, a large explosion ripped across the surrounding area. It was as if the spirit of fire itself was their enemy today. Even those who ran weren't completely clear of the blast. Burns scarred so many of them, and they were all thrown to the ground like simple rag dolls.

Golmash looked up as he started to recover from his daze, enraged. There were dozens of corpses, and even fewer survivors. The fools who stayed near the metal were charred beyond recognition. Scanning to see which orcs were standing, he recognised all but two of the chieftains among them. Ga'nar of the Frostwolves lay shielding a younger Frostwolf from the blast. Fear and sorrow were obvious on the youth's face. Strangely a few members of the Thunderlords hurried to help him.

The other Chieftain who lay dead was his own. Karog of the Warsong lay dead, body bent at unnatural angles and nearly burnt beyond recognition. Golmash growled in rage. But the fighting wasn't over yet – dozens of strange orc-like creatures burst out of the tree-cover. Some looked like the boars of Gorgrond mixed with the body of a small but fat ogre, while the others looked vaguely like orcs, having instead strangely shaped and scaled faces. The majority of this second type of creature appeared to be physically weaker than orcs – something Golmash planned to put to the test personally. The boar-creatures were wielding slightly strange-looking axes while the scaled creatures were wielding a mix of strange metal poles that shot bursts of fire to even stranger looking swords.

Golmash raised his axe as he started a war cry. Beside him, another orc – the new Blackrock chieftain - stepped up, raising his mace before joining in on the war cry. Then the Burning Blade chieftain followed, before the Bleeding Hollow chieftain. One by one, each of the surviving chieftains joined in on his war cry – and then every surviving orc from the gathering joined in. As the invaders charged through the tree coverage and towards the Oshu'gun, a single cry sounded throughout the clearing. As one, the children of Draenor charged, yelling their warcry. "LOK'TAR OGAR!"

And then chaos erupted.

 **On the Coastline South of Oshu'gun**

Kirouba the Hutt slowly worked his way forward. As a survivor of the Nem'ro family and an important member of the Hutt Cartel, he was a busy man. He had no time to waste dallying about. As he motioned for his guard to join him on his tour of the crystal outcropping, he quickly started out. Despite how busy he was, he was still more than eager to see his profit. He had never seen a crystal structure quite as big nor with as complex of an atomic structure as this one. Going off of the readings the probe droids gave before they were so abruptly dismantled, this may be a perfect base alloy for their new line of droids being built on Makeb. The only thing he had to do was figure out how exactly it could be extracted and remade. But that was a job for the scientists. All Kirouba wanted at the present moment was to see his profit.

A Nikto quickly approached Kirouba. Quickly in Huttese, the Nikto mumbled something to the Hutt. Likewise in Huttese, and slightly annoyed at the interruption of his tour, the Hutt quickly growled, "Speak up!"

The Nikto bowed in compliance before doing just that. "Your greatness, I'm sorry. I have to advise that you wait on your tour. Somehow the natives are still fighting our main forces at the outcropping, despite having only primitive weapons. There are reports that some of them are even using those Jedi powers."

"Bah!" The Hutt quickly waved a dismissive hand. "Send the bombers in. Let's just wipe them out and get on with things, if you are so inept!" As the Nikto started off, Kirouba quickly raised a hand as another idea came into his mind – one that could potentially increase the profit. "Wait. Instead, I'll give you one chance to redeem yourself. I want them taken prisoner. If they can stand this long, no doubt they'll be able to stand some of the more tedious aspects of manual labour. And if some of them are using the Force – well, I can make a decent bit of credits by selling them to the Sith, I think. Yes, this is what I order… I expect it to be done soon."

The Nikto quickly bowed. "As you wish, great Kirouba Daraba Nem'ro. It will be done." As the Nikto hurried off, Kirouba simply shook his head. Even though he was certain this would earn him ample credits, he still couldn't help but feel a bit of annoyance. This made an already busy man twice as busy. He would have a lot to oversee.

As he slowly turned his back to the crystal outcropping, he growled quickly to his servants. "Get those Wookiee brutes down here. While we wait for those pathetic natives to fall, I want to see the outer wall of my crystal mines started." As he worked his way back to his ship for now, he sighed. What a busy man he was.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N-**

 **Short A/N. Just wanted to apologise about no chapters recently. A lot has been going on the past few days in real life, and possibly the next few days as well. It shouldn't be too long before returning to a regular schedule, however.**

 _Chapter III_

So close, yet so far. Grommash and Claw had made it to a plateau overlooking the Mok'Gol Watchpost. They had been so close to warning the Warsong – his own clan – of the incoming danger. But close did not save them. The Watchpost was engulfed in a blaze, the once strong walls reduced to little more than charred rubble.

From Grommash's spot on the plateau, he noticed large boar-like creatures wielding strange-looking axes – it almost looked as if they were herding any survivors. He noticed that when any of the wounded orcs resisted or tried to fight back, the boar-creatures rushed and killed the resistors. After a moment, he noticed this same behaviour happening all throughout the Watchpost – all of the orcs were being moved into a crowd not far from a strange metal building that wasn't there before.

As Grommash watched, he noticed some more strange creatures pulling cages out from the metal building. And then an even stranger creature walked out – or worked its way out, Grommash noted. The creature had no legs as far as he could tell, and sort of resembled a slug with tiny arms, but just taller in height than even a fully grown orc. Claw growled deeply as he saw the slug-creature, scratching the ground despite Grommash putting a hand on the Garn's shoulder to calm him.

It took a few moments, but the young Hellscream finally managed to calm the wolf. As the Garn's growling came to a stop, he noticed another of the strange 'meteor's' landing beside the metal building. Unlike the others though – this was both bigger and slower moving. Once it stopped, Grommash noticed some striking similarities to the metal building – while there were a few differences, it was extremely alike. A small part on the 'meteor-building' slid open before a small bit of metal almost like a ramp extended out, touching the ground. A strange being almost like a thin orc walked out, but what was even more unusual was it looked as if it was made out of metal with glowing yellow eyes.

Grommash tensed as he realised one thing in specific. The metal creature raised a single hand and pointed directly at his location. Hurrying up, Grommash pulled Claw into attention – climbing up and leaning forward as he just managed to avoid a bolt of fire shot by one of the creatures invading Nagrand. He needed to hurry, to leave – but Grommash Hellscream did not know to where.

Kirouba grumbled under his breath as he saw the Gammoreans herding the natives towards the prisonship. Things were taking far too long – and where was that pathetic assassin droid he 'borrowed' from that ex-Sith on Nar Shaddaa? It should have been back ages ago! He was far too busy to be kept waiting from such a pathetic reason as this. This country should have been tamed quickly enough – especially due to how primitive the natives are.

He sighed slightly as a few Nikto and Humans brought the cages out. He could have simply had they kept inside the prison cells on the ship – there would be near to no way such primitives could break through the shielding, but he wasn't all too sure if such a thing would break their spirits as badly as crude, metal bars and beast cages would. He wanted them to be broken sooner than later – he needed to get the shipment of the crystal to Makeb after all. It wouldn't do to have it simply lying about here!

As they started to herd the natives into the cages – ignoring their cries of rage and protest – Kirouba noticed a small armed shuttle approaching. Finally! It was about time that the droid returned, he had already been waiting for far too long as it was. As the shuttle's power started to shut down, he worked his way to the entrance ramp.

As the Hutt waited, a tall, lithe droid walked out. The droids glowing yellow photoreceptors scanned the area before focusing on Kirouba before walking down again. The Hutt couldn't help but growl as the droid walked on. "What took you so long, droid? I don't have all day!"

The droid was silent for only a few moments before responding. "Annoyed Statement: As you may imagine, scanning a continent may take some time. Even for an extremely efficient droid, I might add. Mocking Query: Would you like to conduct the next scan instead?"

Oh, how Kirouba hated the droid. If it was not as skilled as it was… Shaking his head slightly, he growled, "HK-51… What do you have to report, you useless scrap heap. If you weren't as skilled as-"

"Statement: Oh, but I am, 'Master'. Observation: Before I report my findings, would you like for me to report that your organic grunts have left one of the native organics alive? I noticed it lying on the plateau with some creature beside it. I'd approximate the chance they were spying on you is nearly ninety-nine point seven nine three nine one five percent. "As the Hutt's expression fell to one of pure rage, HK-51 decided to add in, "Eager Query: Would you like for me to eliminate them?"

The Hutt's fist slammed down heavily on one of the nearby crates. Inefficient! Why did he pay them what he did if they were sloppy enough to leave stragglers?! "Bah! Shoot them down! If it survives the shot, throw it in one of the cages! If not, leave it to rot!"

If droids could grin, Kirouba knew HK-51 would be doing so. "Eager Response: Right away, 'master'!" As the droid moved to grab the blaster rifle strapped to its back, "Query: Would you like for me to let you know when the organic is eliminated or captured?"

Kirouba waved a hand as he moved to turn. "Just get it done, you scrap pile! I expect it done soon!" With that, he heard a blaster bolt go off. Shaking his head slightly as he heard the droid give chase, he started back to the prison transport ship. He had a lot of work to do, and so little time to do it. If the Cartel operation was to expand on Makeb, he couldn't have things at a standstill!


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter IV_

If droids could smirk, the designated droid 'HK-51' would be doing just that. As much as the Maker would allow his programming to hold such emotions, he always loved it when his prey ran. It made the hunt far more enjoyable – when they are frozen in fear, there is little to no challenge at all. The only thing more amusing was when his targets fought back in such clumsy charges. Foolish organics.

In this hunt, the black-furred canine and the native seemed to be more than willing to allow HK-51 the enjoyment of the chase – of the hunt. The only thing that the assassin droid regretted was that the primary parameters of the hunt were to bring the targets in alive if at all possible. Although, HK settled, his 'master' never said anything about injuries.

As the two natives ran, HK tightened his grip on his sniper rifle – photoreceptor to the scope as he aimed what he knew would be a brilliant shot to destabilise his target. And that it did, striking the canine in the joint on the back, right leg. "Efficient!" the assassin droid commented gladly to himself. With that, he hurried forward to capture his prey.

* * *

Grommash Hellscream was not one to shy away from combat. Even at such an early age, he had seen his fair share. He watched as his clan take on many different enemies – saberon, ogres, pale orcs… He also both watched and took part in many different forms of sparring matches internally. But none of the fighting he witnessed had ever prepared himself for this – the enemy that cut through Nagrand like an axe through flesh. He had only once chance now: to run, to find help from the other clans. And the closest chance he had of that was with the Burning Blade clan in Hallvalor.

Before he could get to the Burning Blade, he knew he had to lose this metal-creature first. If these enemies hadn't made it there first, he wasn't about to take them there himself. Things looked to be going well, too. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw the metal-creature falling further and further back. And considering the fast approaching tree line leading into the forest, he thought for certain he would've been able to outrun them.

But he had no such luck. Right as he was about to make it, Claw grunted in pain, falling to his side. As Grommash scrabbled to his feet, he noticed the fur on Claw's black leg was scorched by what he assumed to be the same kind of magic that the 'meteors' were using back at Oshu'gun. And as Grommash glanced back to the metal-creature that was targeting them, he noticed it nearly flying towards them as unnaturally fast speeds – some sort of magic flame coming from small extensions on its feet.

The young Hellscream knew he'd have no chance of outrunning it. Picking up a small branch, he readied himself to try to face it. If he was going to die, Grommash Hellscream wouldn't let it be running like a coward who knew he'd never escape, but kept running anyway. No, it would be like a true orc should – with a weapon in his hand and a wolf by his side, fighting his enemy until his last breath.

Charging, the young Hellscream yelled an orcish battlecry, moving to smash the branch into the metal-creature's head. A second before the strike should have it, the strange flame coming from the metal-creature's feet stopped, letting it fall to the ground. It moved to side-step, one claw-like hand moving at swift speeds to grip Grommash's arm in a death-grip, tightening it to the point that the tips of its claws broke skin.

The metal-creature then spoke something in a language he didn't understand. Rather than waiting to see what it meant, Grommash started to throw punches with his other arm, trying to ignore the pain in the arm the metal-creature had. In response to the punches, however – the metal-creature simply made a sound similar to laughter, letting go of Grommash's arm and pushing him with enough force that he stumbled back.

Rather than immediately getting up, Grommash tried to scramble to grab some sort of other weapon he could use. Scanning the ground, he saw another branch and a small handful of sharp rocks not too far away. Moving to hurry for the branch, he heard the metal-creature only laugh again as it hurried forward. The young Hellscream attempted to stall it by throwing a kick out, but the metal-creature simply stepped around him – making its way over to intercept Grommash to his potential weapon. As if to smash any hopes of using it, the metal-creature decided to step down on the branch with enough force it broke through it, splintering the branch down the centre.

Grommash growled as he tried to scramble to his feet again, only to feel yet another push from the metal-creature. Catching himself against a tree as he started to fall, he growled as he attempted to charge again. The metal-creature made no attempts to move away, just back a little bit as it pulled out a strange metal object. Grommash payed no attention as it hit a button on the device, growling slightly as he made his way closer. At the last moment, the metal-creature side-stepped as Grommash thought it would.

Turning on his heel, Grommash aimed a punch with all of his strength towards the metal-creature, aiming for the joint connecting its arm to its torso. The metal-creature continued on a turn of its own, slide just far enough that Grommash's strike hit its arm instead of the joint, and that Grommash continued past the metal-creature instead. It then used that as a chance to slap the metal object against the back of his neck.

Growling slightly, Grommash made an attempt to claw at the metal device as his opponent started to laugh again. When he clawed at it, he felt a sharp burst of pain surging through him, knocking him to the ground. The pain he felt was almost like what he'd imagine a small bolt of lightning to feel like. Growling due to a mix of the pain and the anger, Grommash glared up as his opponent pulled out another small metal device. As it hit another button, Grommash felt another surge of the similar pain. And with the third surge, Grommash felt his world darken as he slipped into unconsciousness, despite how hard he fought against it.


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter V_

Grommash Hellscream started to stir. As his eyes started to crack open, he glanced around – taking a moment to adjust himself to the darkness. The only source of light he had was from the magic that formed blue walls around him. Past the darkness Grommash saw something that made his blood boil. He wasn't the only one in this room.

There were many cages, and there was one fallen orc in each of them. Some were huddled against the metal strip at the back of their cages, some were growling and pacing in what little space they had, and some were still unconscious; not yet aware of their fate.

Grommash's clenched his fist, growling deeply. As he tensed his fist, pulling his arm back to 'fight' the magic, he heard a sigh coming from a nighbouring cage. A young orc, no older than Grommash, stood there shaking his head. The white body paint marked him as a Bleeding Hollow orc. "Don't bother punching it. You'll only hurt yourself."

Grommash watched as the young orc raised a hand. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell that it was singed. The skin was blistering slightly, and he noticed the orc grimacing slightly as he moved his wounded hand.

Grommash slowly lowered his own arm, growling quietly. "How do you suppose we escape then, if the walls themselves threaten to kill us." The young Hellscream frowned slightly in surprise as he noticed the Bleeding Hollow orc's reaction. It was in no way what he would've expected – the orc started to grin!

"We have an opening. They're taking us alive, Warsong. They must be expecting to take us as slaves and workers – just like the ogres have tried to do after successful raids. During the time they release us to work, we will have one obstacle out of the way…" The Bleeding Hollow orc suddenly frowned slightly. Motioning to the back of his neck, Grommash noticed he also had a small piece of metal – just like the one the metal-creature placed on his neck. The same one that delivered those painful shocks… "They can control these from afar. Incase you don't know, they-"

Grommash cut him off with a head shake of his own. "I know," he grumbled. "That… metal-creature of theirs… The coward didn't kill me in battle. When I charged, it stepped to the side, slamming the metal against the back of my neck. Rather than fighting me…" The young Hellscream's clenched his fist again, so tightly that small traces of red started to form around his fingers. "Rather than fighting me, the coward kept its distance and delivered internal shocks. Unlike a shaman's lightning, there was no chance to avoid… It felt as if it was internal."

The Bleeding Hollow orc sighed quietly. "Yes. I've seen that happen. If they wish it, the intensity of the shock can actually become lethal. One of my clan's blood warriors joined the ancestors less than an hour ago due to a shock with enough strength." The orc chuckled quietly. "She did at least manage to kill two of those scaled creatures, however. They didn't even stand a chance, and she would've killed many more if it wasn't for that piece of metal."

Grommash grunted slightly. If it wasn't for this metal, they all would have quite the advantage. Slowly, the young Hellscream asked, "Do you know where we are? Perhaps they haven't managed to enslave all of the clans yet – perhaps we can find aid…"

The Bleeding Hollow grunted, chuckling slightly. "A Warsong looking for aid? This is new." After a quick moment, his laugh fell as he returned to the seriousness of the situation. "But no, I don't. Not fully. The last I saw we were in northern Gorgrond. Where we are now though is a mystery. We're moving."

"What?" Grommash growled quietly, his fist unclenching slightly as small trails of red worked its way down his hands, slipping around and over his fingers. "How can we be moving? How can this room be-" He broke off as he slowly realised. "The 'meteors'."

The young orc nodded slowly. "Yes. They forced us into one of the 'meteors', whatever they are. There are twenty of us in this one room alone – members of Blackrock, Bleeding Hollow, and Warsong. The majority of them are Blackrock."

Grommash slowly nodded. So they were in one of these 'meteors'. Where were they going? As he started to ask just that, he hesitated slightly. It wasn't likely that the Bleeding Hollow orc would even know where they were going anyway. And, there was a better question – one that he might be able to answer. "How long have we been moving…?"

The Bleeding Hollow orc grimaced to that. He was silent for a few moments and Grommash started to think he wasn't going to say. But after another second, the young orc did response quietly. "We left nearly a sunrise ago, Warsong. I do not know which direction or where we are headed, but it was nearly that long ago…"

The young Hellscream grunted quietly as he considered what the orc said. If it was nearly a day ago, there was no way to tell where they could be heading… It could be anywhere. Growling quietly, he started to pace in the room he had. After a few moments, he stopped and looked up to the young orc again. "Grommash."

The Bleeding Hollow orc looked slightly confused for a moment. After a small pause, he picked up, realising it was the young Hellscream's name. "Ah. I believe I've heard of you… You are the son of the Giantkiller, no? Golmash Hellscream?" After hearing a grunt from Grommash to confirm this, he nodded. "I am Kilrogg Deadeye, son of the chieftain of the Bleeding Hollow clan."

* * *

Darvok's eyes slowly opened. At first he thought he was blinded in the fight before realising it was simply the fact that there was next to no light in the room. Glancing around, he closed and opened his eyes a few times, trying to adjust them to the new darkness. While it wasn't great, he could at least make out different shades of black and grey now.

Grunting slightly, Darvok slowly stood, grimacing as his side suddenly flared up in pain. Slowly moving to stand, he heard another grunt coming from the other side of the room. Slowly, Darvok called out – his tone slurred slightly for reasons unknown to him. "Who're you…?"

From what Darvok could tell, the response sounded like it was coming from a young female orc – probably no older than her teens. "Eh. So the Blackrock's up an' awake, huh?"

"I asked your name," Darvok growled, annoyance almost dripping from his tone. "And where the hell are we…? I remember Oshu'gun – our fight against those boars and their metal meteors…"

The young orc only started to laugh in response. "I know you asked my name, Blackrock. And fine, might as well tell you. Doesn't seem like we'll be going anywhere for a bit. My 'father' is Dharl, chieftain of the Burning Blade clan. My name is Azuka. And what was yours, Blackrock?"

The young chieftain grumbled quietly in response. His annoyance with this 'Azuka' was only growing. Despite this, he decided that he'd play along. For now. As he tried to suppress his annoyance, he slowly responded. "My name is Darvok. I am chieftain of the Blackrock clan. Now tell me. Where. Are. We?"

Azuka grunted quietly, shaking her head in annoyance. "We're not going anywhere. To be honest, I don't even know where we are. That overgrown orc-boar threw me in here after I bit off two of his fingers. Tastes nothing like boar."

Darvok simply grunted his response before starting to pace. As he started to think on his next course of action, the room lit up in a dim red light. There was nothing natural about this light, nothing that any of the elements would make. Nothing akin to the forges his clan made and ruled, many years ago.

Due to the light, he noticed that he and Azuka were the only two in the room. They were separated by what looked to be a thin wall of magic. It was clear – if it hadn't been for the light he never would have noticed it. It looked as if each of them had roughly a few feet of walking space and a few small rags acting as bedding. And slowly a door slid open.

In walked a metal-forged creature, in some ways akin to the elemental creatures forged in his clan's legends. But there were many differences. Its silver plating was nothing akin to the iron he worked well with. Nor was it the size of the elemental creatures. This thing was no taller than a fully grown orc. Its glowing yellow eyes scanned each of them slowly before speaking in a language he did not recognise. It was nothing like the languages of his home.

The metal creature spoke again. This time in a more guttural language. Upon realising that neither orc recognised the language it spoke, the creature spoke in an entirely new language. This process repeated itself many times over. When the last language the creature tried failed, it growled something in a tone Darvok assumed to be anger. With a turn, the creature started out of the room again.

Azuka smirked slowly. "I'd say we made it mad. And I'd say that's a bonus for us. If these brutes are anything like the ogres, we can use that to our advantage. Leaning back against the back metal wall of her prison, the young orc laughed quietly.

Darvok only grunted in response. They had no time to bother with simply spiting their enemies. They had to crush them entirely. And for now, he had to spend this time wisely. Their slavers would try to break him. But he would show them that a Blackrock is not so easily broken. And that his clan tends to do the breaking instead.

"Listen to what they say. See if you can pick up on the meaning of their words, but do not let on that we're understanding," Darvok growled quietly as the dim red light faded again, returning them to the empty darkness. Slowly he moved to lie down against the rags. Now was the time to rest, and there was no telling when he'd next get the chance. "We can not fail on this, Azuka. These slavers _will_ be crushed."


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter VI_

"Target is in position, Dax. The slave shipment is being transferred to the Hutt as we speak."

"Good work, Syn. Meet up with the others. We move out – now."

As Syn moved to hurry out, Dax chuckled quietly. This would prove to be an interesting hunt indeed. That overgrown slug had stayed in hiding for months, but now he made the fatal mistake of coming out for this slave shipment from a newly discovered world just outside of Hutt space. As Dax move to put on his dark red helmet, he stood – moving to follow Syn's leave. The hunt was about to begin.

* * *

Grommash Hellscream looked around cautiously. This was in no way his home. He and the other orcs captured aboard the strange 'meteor' were 'herded out' after about two days of waiting. The area they saw now… It was nothing like the wide open plains of Nagrand. This place was completely made of metal. In any direction he looked, he could only see massive towers and walkways – all made of metal. Strange lights were attached to some of the metal, larger lights that made even stranger images were scattered about. This was not home.

Ahead, just down the walkway a bit, Grommash saw another strange creature work its way around the corner. The creature was quite similar to the overgrown slug he noticed speaking with the boars little more than a few days ago… The same creature who ordered the metal-creature to capture or kill Grommash and… Claw. The younger Hellscream's fist clenched to that – the thought of how dishonourably his companion was shot down. And at the thought of how the cowards who did this still breathed.

As the young Hellscream seethed, he noticed another figure walk around the corner. This figure was different than the others. It had hair akin to an orc's, although it was paler and just a bit smaller than a fully grown orc. It was also quite a bit thinner and it only had small teeth. However, there were two things the same. This figure had the same metal object attached to its neck as the orcs had, and it had two wrist cuffs connected by a strand of red energy. Its gaze also flooded with rage and the stubborn will to resist.

The slug motioned to the figure in a way that even Grommash could tell was filled with arrogance. After a pause, it said something else before making a few strange motions to the metal creature. With a nod, the metal creature responded in quick bursts of speech before starting over and aggressively pushing the figure forward. It led the figure closer and closer to the 'meteor' before pausing and half turning to Grommash and the other orcs, motioning to them.

The slug simply nodded before laughing and speaking. A laugh that twisted into an expression of pain and a scream of fear. Quickly glancing over, the young Hellscream noticed the slug slumped over, smoke rising from a spot on its back. With a yell, three figures clad in strange suits of armour flew in from the sky, streams of fire coming from their back and propelling them along. Each one held metal objects akin to the pole-like item the metal creature used to shoot energy at Hellscream and Claw.

Bolts of flaming energy filled the air as the metal creature returned fire. Neither side paid the group of slaves any heed, a fact Grommash planned to use to his advantage. Quickly glancing around, he noticed a rubble pile. Hurrying to it and reaching down, he made an attempt to grab a long metal pole protruding out of the surface. Gripping it as best he could with his own wrist cuffs, he slowly worked his way around the group, trying to get between the 'meteor' and the metal creature without giving his own position away.

* * *

Dax smirked as brother's shot hit the Hutt dead on from such a distance. The only building they could capture without giving their position away to the Hutt's guards was a decent distance away. Might've had a large target, but the shot still was impressive. And, of course, it took care of at least one more scum in the galaxy.

The HK unit would be another story, however. It reacted quickly and offered some return fire. But they had numbers thanks to the event not having many guars, wanting to keep things off the chart and hidden. Too bad for them they didn't know Syn got the intel.

As one of the bolts flew over his head, Dax growled in annoyance. That was too close. And after another bolt, he ducked. Lifting his head, he noticed a large metal shape flying towards him. With a thud, the HK unit and Dax fell backwards. A vibroknife flew out of the droid's wrist, pressing against Dax's neck.

"Observation: It would seem you are stuck," the HK unit started, glancing around. "Warning: According to my databanks, you are the leader. Your servants will cease fire immediately, or I will terminate you. You have ten seconds to comply. One. Two."

Dax growled in response to the threat before growling something quietly in another tongue. As the droid's count hit seven, his brothers and sisters opened fire again as instructed. Instead of impaling the knife through Dax's throat, he noticed a wave of sparks emitting from its chest. As he rolled out of the way in surprise, he noticed a small metal object pushing further through the droid.

Moving to stand, Dax glanced around in confusion before seeing the cause. A small child, one of the natives from the newly discovered world, was holding the other end of a large metal pole. As the child stood back, dropping the pole, Dax thought he noticed the child smirk before grunting something in his native tongue.

Turning back to his brothers and sisters, he chuckled. "Ke'sush, ner vode! Seems some of you really have to go back through training!" Laughing slightly, Dax gripped his helmet – removing it and holding it under his arm. "A _kid_ just killed something you all couldn't!"

As some of them laughed and others grunted, Dax turned his attention back to the group of the slaves and the child. "So, who're you, kid?" Upon seeing the look of confusion he got in response, Dax added in, "Ah, you don't speak Basic... This'll be interesting."

* * *

Grommash looked around at all the strange looks he was given. Were these new creatures different from the others? They seemed to be different, against a common enemy. But when one of them spoke, the young Hellscream couldn't understand a word of it. He spoke in some tongue he couldn't recognise – a different tongue from the language he was hearing from the slavers.

Dropping the pole, he noticed that they weren't moving in any hostile way. In fact, some of them were making actions similar to laughter. After a pause, the figure started to speak again in the same tongue. Upon noticing Grommash's lack of understanding, he saw the figure point towards himself before saying the word 'Dax'. Was that supposed to mean it was his name? Position? Tribe?

After a moment, Grommash decided to assume it was his name. To respond in kind, the young Hellscream pointed towards himself before responding in one word. "Grommash." The figure laughed again, causing Grommash to tense. Noticing this, Dax shook his head – an action Grommash did at least understand. Shaking his head again, he pointed towards the remains of the metal creature and the… other one. 'Not slaver'? Was that his meaning? Then who was he?

Dax turned, starting to walk away before turning back towards Grommash and the other orcs – making a motion similar to a beckon. Did he want them to follow him? Glancing back to the group of orcs, he heard cautious muttering being discussed amongst them. They were worried, fearful after the slavers. Deciding someone needed to make the first move, to make the first decision, Grommash turned back to Dax. Grommash started to walk forward, towards Dax and not looking back. One by one, he heard them begin to follow as one name echoed amongst their muttering.

" _Hellscream."_


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

 **Five Years Later**

Grommash Hellscream was never fond of waiting. Even after he had managed to earn his freedom – even after he choose to join 'Aliit Beskar'. Clan Iron, in their language. Apparently, they were from a faction called the Mandalorians – a faction based in honour. Following the, as he now knew it to be called, droid's downfall; their leader, Dax Beskar, offered him a place among them.

After four years of training and learning, Hellscream was given the chance to join the clan as a full member, creating his own set of beskar'gam – Mandalorian armour. And one year after this, another clanmate brought back some intelligence. Five more orcs were found, but they were no longer enslaved. According to the report, they were to be hunted down and slaughtered due to the murder of the Hutt, Narbo Jas Nem'ro, one of the few members of the Nem'ro clan to still survive the Fa'athra enslaught. And one of the Hutts involved in the enslavement of Draenor, alongside his brother Kirouba.

After consulting with Dax, he allowed Grommash to gather a few of the clanmates and organise a rescue mission. One of the clanmates he choose to join him was Kilrogg, the orc of the Bleeding Hallow who he spoke with so many years ago while on the Hutt 'slave ship'. The rest of the party was comprised of two recon commandos going by the names of Ty'rsan and Ryla, and the explosives expert, Tasi.

The plan was simple. Intercept the free orcs, leave a little surprise for the hunters, and hurry out of there. But, what worried Grommash was also quite simple. Was this too easy? The orcs were traveling in a straight line – a few curves here and there, but for the most part they hadn't diverted their course even once. Were the Cartel hunters leading his people, using them as bait for a trap?

As quickly as the idea hit him, Grommash shook it off. He would not let these Hutts continue to hunt his people down like talbuk to the slaughter. He would make certain of two things. Making himself this promise, he vowed that he wouldn't rest until these Hutts payed for all that they've done. And he would never slow in his hunt, not until all of his people were free once more. Tightening his grip on his vibro-axe, he started for his ship – a 'good luck' gift from Dax for his hunt.

As he made his way up the boarding ramp, he heard voices coming from inside. That was good, the 'rescue party' had already gathered. He wouldn't have to settle for any more senseless waiting. With a grunt of satisfaction as he entered, he saw Kilrogg and Ryla sparring, Tasi tinkering with her explosives, and Ty'rsan reading a datapad, pausing slightly to nod in greetings. It was time.

* * *

Grommash Hellscream growled quiet as he stood. He hadn't realised how much Klatooine would remind him of Draenor. Although it lacked the jungles of Tanaan and Gorgrond, and the frozen lands of Frostfire Ridge – it held something that pierced all the deeper. Even though it was mainly a desert world, there appeared to be actual savannas. He felt flashbacks of Nagrand as he stared at the holo.

Ty'rsan opted to give everyone a rundown on the planet they were visiting – to make sure that everyone, especially the orcs, were prepared for what they were going to face. And apparently the Hutt Cartel was the leading faction on Klatooine; not its slavers, but its allies. Grommash's fists clenched even tighter as he heard that.

"We'll be landing in the city of Treema. Sort of the capital of Klatooine; located in the Derelkoos desert. We'll probably come across a few 'Cartel Officials', but they shouldn't give us too much trouble. Doubt they'll want to mess with a bunch of Mando'ade, eh, vode?" Ty and a few of the others permitted themselves a small chuckle to that. Not many were so brave, or foolish, as to mess with Mandos. Although Grommash didn't share in his laughter, he grunted slightly in acknowledgement to his statement.

"Do we have a location on where these orcs are?" Kilrogg, who had been silent up 'til this point, grunted quietly as he stepped forward. "Or at least do we know a last known location?"

Ty quietly nodded to that, tapping a portion of the holo a few times as it zoomed further in – up 'til is showed only Treema and a bit around it. "See the warehouses to the South of the city? According to the last update we had, they were hiding out in there. We think they might be trying to gear up."

Tasi tilted her head slightly as she finished preparing her own explosives. "What's the chance they're still there? That update was ages ago, vod. And it's not smart to hang around in one area too long."

"I know," Ty shook he head quietly as he spoke. "But it gives us a starting point. Instead of running around the whole city, we now know where to begin our research. All we have to do is beat the overgrown slugs to the orcs. Not like that'll be hard, eh?" He chuckled again quietly as he powered down the holo.

Shaking his own head as he stood, Grommash turned and sheathed his vibro-axe on his back. "If the Hutts themselves are chasing the orcs, then it would be easy. But when do those wretches ever do anything themselves? We should start – NOW!" Grommash spoke the final word with a deep growl, starting towards the ship's nav computer to set course to the planet's surface. But he stopped midtrack when he heard Kilrogg's voice.

"Hold, Hellscream. Don't simply rush headfirst after them. Getting yourself killed in the process is simply worthless. Do not-" Kilrogg stopped mid-sentence as Grommash whipped around, growling quietly, dangerously.

"And the longer we wait, the more likely the orcs – our brothers and sisters – are enslaved again by the Hutt Cartel! And if they aren't enslaved, they will be killed like boars to the slaughter. Those wretched slugs don't even know the meaning of _honour_. We can not wait, Kilrogg. The longer we wait, the more likely we will be too late. And I will NOT let this happen. We go – now."

Hellscream turned to look at the four of the others, one by one. Although there was silence for a moment, Ryla stepped forward. With a slow nod, she spoke. "You're right. The longer we wait, and the longer we argue, the most likely they'll be caught. Let's go."


	9. Chapter 8

**AN: Apologies about the lack of anything on this over the past month. Being honest, Halloween and Knights of the Fallen Empire both had me a bit distracted. With Halloween being over, I will be putting more time into the Wrath of Hellscream again.  
**  
Chapter _VIII_

They had made quite the name for themselves during their short time on Klatooine. However, a Hutt slain had as many disadvantages as it had advantages. Darvok of the Blackrock Clan couldn't help but growl as he and Azuka hid. Hiding was not something he enjoyed, but it was a necessity.

The 'hunters' had been relentless, slowly dwindling down their party from five to only two, but Darvok refused to be the hunted for longer than necessary. But that would be changing. The two surviving orcs had managed to make their way to a set of warehouses on the southern end of the city, Treema. Although Darvok would have preferred a mace to these… 'weapons', they would have to do.

As the two equipped their weaponry, Darvok heard a quiet 'hissing' sound. Falling still and motioning for Azuka to do much the same, they listened. Slowly, an arid scent made its way towards him; soon after both recognition and a burning feeling hit him. Eyes widening, he clenched his fists before hurrying to the door.

Quickly, they made their way to the entrance as toxic gas slowly started to flood into the room. Azuka, making it to the door first, quickly punched in the set of codes they used to get in. A moment passed, followed by another, but the door wasn't sliding open.

Darvok let out a roar of rage as he slammed his fist against the paneling. Almost as quickly as he did so, the roar of rage changed to pain as a bit of the toxic gas slipped in through his mouth, starting to burn the inside of his throat. Letting his pain fuel him, he slammed into the door again with his full weight. Nothing.

For a split moment, terror started to creep its way into the corners of Darvok's mind. But as quickly as it did, he shook it off. He was Darvok, chieftain of the Blackrock. He would not let the Hutts, resorting to cowardly tactics like gas released from afar, be the end of him. When he fell, it would be on the battlefield with his mace in hand and the corpses of his enemies piled around him. He would _not_ let this be the end.

* * *

Tightening his fist around his vibro-axe, Grommash Hellscream led the way through a rapidly departing crowd. It didn't take too long for them find a place to land. Even here, the 'officials' knew better to stand in the way of a furious Mandalorian, let alone a group of Mandalorians focused on a hunt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Grommash noticed Ty's helmet turn ever so slightly, almost as if he was keeping an eye out for trouble. The young Hellscream knew he was not being the most subtle, but given the situation he didn't really care. Any guilt he felt at making Ty and the others nervous or on edge swiftly was drowned in a desire, a focus to see the Hutts pay and his people free.

As he growled quietly, storming through the remainder of the crowd, Grommash couldn't help but think that in some ways he hoped his lack of subtlety would attract Hutts' security forces. Any whelp that survived would be sent running like the cowards they were. This was something he was sure of.

After a short while, Hellscream heard… yelling? Raising a hand to signal that they stop, he listened. A moment later, he was off in a sprint. At least three separate voices were shouting in Huttese, and out of the bit he knew of Huttese, he recognised three specific words. 'Slave', 'warehouse', and 'dead'.

Minute after minute passed as the small group of Mandalorian ran – any bit of the crowd that remained was swiftly dispersed as the civilians made desperate attempts to flee before they were trampled. And moments later, a roar sounded from Hellscream's throat as the mercenaries came into view.

"Oya-" Hellscream started, a Mandalorian warcry on his lips. But as quickly as he started, the words shifted into something the escaping orcs would find far more familiar. "Lok'tar ogar!" The three mercenaries whipped around to face the newcomers upon hearing his yell. As they raised their blasters shoot, one fell to Kilrogg's blaster rifle.

Swiftly, the five overpowered the surviving two mercs, and as the last one fell, Grommash started in a sprint towards the warehouse door. Almost as if on cue, he heard a sound coming from the other side. A weak pounding. "Tasi! Door-breach, now! They're inside!"

With a quick nod, she reached into her pouch – grabbing a small, rectangular object. Pressing and holding it to the door, she quickly synced the remote to the explosive before taking a couple of steps back. "Breach ready – take cover!"

As they moved to do so, Tasi grunted before holding down the remote's key. Following the intense burst of flames of the explosive, Grommash rushed to his feet. Within another moment, the young Hellscream was racing to the now open doorway.

Inside, a figure slammed against the rubble, growling in rage. Despite his weakened form, the figure within was an intimidating sight to behold. The tall, bald, grey-skinned orc was fighting on will and adrenaline alone. As he caught the now Mandalorian's eye, he rushed towards Grommash, growling in rage.

In a swift movement, Grommash moved to dodge. His own anger starting to spark, he threw himself at the off-balanced orc, force them both to fall to the ground as the young Hellscream fought to hold the larger orc still.

Quickly darting towards the fighting orcs, Ryla quickly prepared the dart launcher in her gauntlet with a sleep dart. At once, the Blackrock summoned enough strength to throw Grommash back a few steps. Getting to his feet, he roared in rage before being cut off as Ryla's dart embedded itself in his neck.

Watching the orc crumble to the ground, Kilrogg strode forward. "Ah. Him." Slowly removing his helmet, he knelt down beside the fallen orc. "It seems we've found the Blackrock chieftain."

"So we have…" Grommash turned, walking in towards the warehouse. "Let's scan the warehouse – that report mentioned not 'one' orc. Kilrogg, wait with the chieftain. Tasi, wait with them, as well. Ty, Ryla – with me."


	10. Chapter 9

_Chapter IX_

Images of a lush land filled her mind. Azuka deamt of Draenor as it used to be: limitless plains where the hunts were indescribably numerous. Sleeping on the warm grass, watching the stars before sleep overcame her. Struggles and challenges set by her clan…

Slowly, the images started to shift. Where once was a clefthoof, standing tall even as her hunting party took the advantage, was a sickly beast. Its once bulwark-like stature broken, matted and torn discoloured fur coating its now weak body. Even its eyes and its teeth were a discoloured yellow. It weakly started towards Azuka before falling.

Within what felt to be moments, she could smell the scent of rot. And moments later, Azuka saw that it was not just the one clefthoof… All the beasts – wolves, clefthooves, windrocs, elekk, talbuk… Each and every one was rotting, even those which still lived. But the rot was not just contained to the beasts – within heartbeats the land shared its affliction. The once lush green that was held within the grass shifted to a dark, deathly brown – the sapphire water shifting to a polluted grey… Even the vibrant blue of the sky mutated into a dark grey and brown.

Azuka awoke with a scream. Sitting upright in a moment, she closed her eyes, panting quietly. As her heart slowed once more, she opened her eyes – taking in the surroundings as best she could. This was not the same place she recalled prior to her unconsciousness. No, this was no warehouse… So where was it? Had she been captured once more?

Glancing around, she saw a metal floor – walls off the same grey material surrounding her, with a single grey entrance to her left. A closed entrance. Growling quietly, she clenched her fists before hesitating in surprise. They weren't bound…

In a swift movement, she found herself able to stand – albeit in a slightly off-balanced way. Slowly, she heard a sound come from behind her. Swiftly turning, she threw a punch towards the source of the sound, catching something metal. Growling quietly, she leapt back to take in the figure.

The figure stood tall, nearly as tall as an orc. Coating its body was a suit of ash grey armour – its helmet was of the same colour, save a jagged wave of coal black paint flowing down around where its - eye should have been. Instead of holes for the eyes, a visor vaguely in the shape of a 'T' stood in its place. Yet, instead of moving to attack Azuka, the figure started to chuckle. Frowning slightly, Azuka tensed – not moving in to strike, yet not letting her guard down just the same.

The figure raised its hand to either side of its helmet, slowly raising it off of its head as if to show it was no threat. Azuka's guard fell slightly in surprise. To most, the figure's facial features would be considered frightening; perhaps even akin to a wild beast. But to an orc, it was simply natural to see another orc. But it still left the question – who was this?

As if hearing her thoughts, the figure grumbled a quiet greeting in orcish before introducing himself. "Throm-Ka, warrior. My name is Kilrogg. Once, I was of Tanaan – of the Bleeding Hallow clan. You have the look of a Burning Blade… Am I right?"

Azuka found herself nodding slightly. "Azuka Bladefury… Where are we? What is that… armour?"

"We are on the planet 'Dxun' presently. In specific, we are in Aliit Beskar's camp, the medical bay. You've been unconscious for three days. We found and killed the mercenaries hunting you and the Blackrock chieftain." After a slight pause, he moved to set his helmet against one of the makeshift tables. "As for the armour? You may want a seat, Azuka. This will be a long story."

Azuka growled quietly, impatience edging in. "I'll sit when I feel like it. Just get on with the story."

Kilrogg smirked in response to that, a flicker of approval and joy. She figured it was him worrying that their slavery might be breaking some of the orcs. Grunting quietly, she leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. As if it would break her.

Slowly, Kilrogg started into explaining the past few years to Azuka, starting with Hellscream, himself, and a few others nearly being sold into slavery to the arrival of the Mandalorians, and all up to the information and rescue on Klatooine. Not once did she interrupt, even when he paused to give room for questions. Despite a few instances of surprise, she kept a passive face, only slipping once in surprise to the name 'Hellscream'. Golmash was well known throughout the clans, and she fully intended on testing Grommash to see if he had his father's resolve.

When Kilrogg finally finished with his tale, he grunted quietly. "Now, you've got a decision to make. We've talked with the Clan leader, our chieftain. You've got a place with Aliit Beskar if you want it." Raising a hand for silence as Azuka started to speak, he continued. "But I don't want your answer, not yet. I want you to see the Clan as a whole, understand us. We've all had enough of jumping into things blindly, you won't be doing that now."

Turning, Kilrogg started away from the table, leaving his helmet where he set it. Slowly, he hit a button on the side of the door, letting it slide open. As they started out into the main chamber, she saw a few figures wandering around, all in the same style of armour Kilrogg had; the only difference being the colour and a few small attachments. But her biggest surprise was when they left the main chamber.

Outside, she saw that they were in a large clearing. Small metal buildings and huts dotted the surroundings. To the north, Azuka noticed a large dirt circle. It looked as if it marked the ground of a wall-less arena, combatants sparring in the centre with onlookers watching. To the south, she noticed a large… forge? Darvok stood, conversing with another of these armoured people. Unlike Kilrogg, this was a smaller creature with tanned skin. She'd seen a few of these creatures before. Humans, they were called.

Slowly, Azuka worked her way forward. As she walked, however – something caught her eye. Against the metal of the forge, a blade of perfect quality stood – the metal still cooling from the heat of the flames. Unlike the shoddy quality the Cartel held, she could see a perfect weight, a perfect balance… Snapping out of it, she whipped around on her heel upon hearing a figure clear its throat.

One of the figures was standing there, watching. He chuckled quietly before muttering something under his breath in a language Azuka could not understand. Slowly removing his helmet, she saw this figure was another human – his amber eyes watching her movements. Surprisingly, when he spoke, he spoke in surprisingly fluent orcish. "You… You're the one clan-brother Grommash found?"

Likewise in orcish, Azuka grunted – responding slowly. "Yes. Myself and Darvok, it seems. You… Who are you?"

"I am the chieftain of this clan. Kilrogg – he's told you about us, yeah?"

"That's right. Mandalorians, huh? He told me a bit about you, but there's a bit he didn't. What're you after, Mando? Why help us?" As she spoke, Azuka let herself fall back against the outerwall of the forge, crossing her arms as she listened.

"Grommash. Kilrogg. The two proved themselves as worthy a fighter as any Mandalorian, even when but a child. Because of their courage, I offered them a position in my clan. And as a clan, we are family. There's no difference in the words in my language, Mando'a." He broke off for a brief moment, chuckling. "Hellscream seeks to free your people. As a clan, we help our own. And I can promise you this… My clan has no love for the Hutts."

Azuka remained silent for a moment, closing her eyes in consideration. After a few moments passed, her eyes opened once again. "Let's get to it, then. Where's Hellscream? I want a word."


End file.
